


Anxiety and Nightmares

by KingpinCobblepot (Theonlylucysaxon)



Series: Comfort and Confirmation [4]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Basically Oswald is the one dealing this time, M/M, TW Depression-ish, and Ed is his safe place, tw anxiety, tw nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 21:39:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18290750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theonlylucysaxon/pseuds/KingpinCobblepot
Summary: In the vein of Ed being mentally ill in a series of one shots I have done, I thought it would be interesting to address feelings of severe anxiety as I have felt them, and translate that into the pairing I love so well. This time though, I thought it would be good to see Oswald struggle with his own issues. This isn't necessarily in the same verse as any other one shot or work, as all one shots are individual creations. I just hope this helps you guys remember you aren't ever alone. <3





	Anxiety and Nightmares

In the aftermath of his treatments, Oswald still has the nightmares. They aren't frequent, they are consistent… But rather they into his mind on sporadic occasions when it's all too much and he feels consumed by the life around him. His plans. His paranoias. It's all so much and sometimes-- Sometimes it's too much. He lays in his bed at the mansion with Edward by his side… A normal dreamless sleep around him, marked with gentle snoring and the way his hand lays comfortably tossed over his lover.

 

The nightmares don't come all at once either. 

 

They're subtle. Steps towards the horrific realizations. His mother shows up and it's such a comforting presence. Yet before he knows it, her eyes are being gouged out and her stomach is being carved open. He awakens himself in a paralyzed state of terror and shock as his mouth forms a silent scream which steals his breath. He sits up, awake in the cool darkness with a sickly sweat covering him and a tremble wracking his body. The anxiety follows not long after. It won't go away. 

 

Ed sleeps sound and Oswald doesn't want to resent him for it. Somehow he doesn't want to be so weak willed and disturb him just to demand affection. But at the same time, he needs him and with every ticking moment he gets angrier and angrier at not getting it. It's unfair but then when has Oswald ever been fair in the way he loves. He's selfish. Cruel. Callous. Demanding. Ed's going to leave him one day over it. The thought forms. 

 

Now it won't go away. He's not an easy man to love. Ed could find easier. He has in fact. More than once. Simple, stupid little morons who are easy to love because they are whole. Oswald on the other hand is broken. In a million pieces. Held together by tentative patchwork and the lies he tells himself. His need to somehow both tell himself he is in the right and condemn whoever contradicts him is an artform. Most of them time it weaves in so well with his various fictions of convenience that he feels it like truth. It becomes the truth. Then in rare moments of clarity as his megalomania sleeps and only his panic is conscious within him… He knows. He knows it all and he feels for it all. 

 

It consumes him. 

 

Everything is so tentative. His life. His security. He claws his way to this here and now and a misstep can bring it all down. His empire. His life. His love. Then he'll have no one. Maybe he already has no one. Maybe Ed is already intending to leave. Maybe as he sleeps now, he's dreaming of a sandy beach down south and all the money he'll steal from Oswald to get there. To run away. To leave him. Alone. Penniless. Maybe this is all just one long con. Maybe--

 

His breath gets short as he begins to drown in it all. It's all around him. It's suffocating. The realizations keep flooding and whatever the truth is becomes muddled in his fear. His heaving breaths turn to tears. Violent tears. Hes sobbing suddenly. It hurts. Everything hurts. His mother is gone. Dr. Strange is out there. Memories of that machine mingle with Jim Gordon throwing him in the river. He feels the cold of the icy water pricking his skin. He feels the water in his lungs. He tastes the blood in his mouth from injuries long past. He hears taunts in his ears that haven't been uttered in years. He's curled into himself with his eyes shut now on his part of the bed… His head is tucked against his knees as hands are suddenly on him. Around him. Ed is holding him. When did he…?

 

Oswald gasps and seeks out his composure as the arms encircle him. No. NO. He can't see him like this. Oswald still fears the day Ed will leave and he doesn't want to entrust him with his vulnerability when that day is so inevitable. 

 

Ed doesn't flinch. He doesn't hesitate. He's speaking but Oswald is too overwhelmed to really consider words. To even hear. It's all a dull humming audible blur of white noise and empty syllables. But those arms. Those arms he doesn't want-- those arms he can't trust. They're so grounding. Comfortable. Secure. He is so warm. So familiar. It isn't fair. Ed doesn't know how unwanted he is. How much Oswald wants to throw him off and insist he's fine. He doesn't want Ed to hold him just as much as he’s desperate not to be let go of and in this moment he cries because his cognitive dissonance is too much. His conflict is too much. Everything is too much and it overwhelms him. Fear. Paranoia. Anxiety. They grip hold of his mind and sink their teeth into Oswald’s stomach like some kind of vicious animal. Set to devour him. 

 

For Ed this is just something that happens sometimes. Oswald’s sensitivity gets the better of him. Every once in a while. What he doesn’t know is that it isn’t sometimes. It’s always. Oswald Cobblepot walks through life wanting to rip his own skin from his body because it is so very suffocating to be himself. It’s always like this. Most of the time-- it’s just easy to ignore. He’s busy. Working. Enjoying things. Reveling in the simple pleasures of being himself and ruling Gotham, even as the horrific fear gnaws away inside of him. These moments aren’t the singular, rare instances when anxiety creeps into his mind. 

 

No. 

 

This is just when it becomes unbearable. 

 

This is when there are no other distractions and it’s all just a spiral of horrendous, paralyzing, get wrenching insecurity. 

 

And by morning, he’ll be cried out. Asleep. His face will be resting comfortably on his pillow with his arms entwined with Ed’s in some manner or another. And he will get back to being king, his demons back to being kept at bay. 

 

For a while atleast. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed. This was one was as personal to me as any of them. And hard to write at times. I hope you feel I did it well. <3


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